a drink in a ghost town
by Ginger-Chan
Summary: After Cuphead and Mugman defeat the Devil, the newfound freedom of Inkwell Isle is the least of Earl's concerns. After all, who else is going to wonder about the freedom of King Dice?


Inkwell Hell wasn't supposed to feel this way. It was supposed to feel like the scorching sun was bearing down on you through a giant magnifying glass. It was lively. But now Earl walks in and it's silent and cold. Only a few hours ago had the Devil been defeated, and already the Devil's Casino was a ghost of its former self, its graveyard now a dark winter.

The outside feels wrong without the lights on, and Earl's eyes go wide at the mess they've found inside. Tables upturned, chairs broken, glass everywhere, it's dark sans for a few lights that no one bothered to turn off in their hurry to leave... _This _must be what their siblings think of when they imagine this place.

They've never approved of Earl coming here. Bobby was worried they'd end up gambling their soul away, and Ora's concerns lay in what the debtors who've already lost theirs could do to them. They weren't wrong in their concerns, either. Earl wasn't a gambler, but the Devil would always try to tempt them into riches and power in exchange for a small price that's never been small, and there were always those who lost everything and needed a punching bag. It was usually other gamblers and the poor employee who happened to be manning that game (poor bastards), but sometimes a particularly anger-blinded (and possibly intoxicated) individual would pick a fight with patrons who wanted nothing to do with gambling.

But as a person with a rebellious heart that craves trouble, they could've found this at any other dive bar (thanks to his power and persistence, the only casino left in Inkwell Isle is the Devil's own), but there was one thing that would keep them coming back: the company.

Not the Devil's; he wasn't the worst person Earl has ever met, but they never particularly found him to be charming. He bled greed and pride, and his insatiable lust for power just reminded them of literally any businessman they've ever met at boring company parties that were only good for getting drunk at and sneaking away from.

His staff, though- there was so much to _adore _about the employees.

They've been chastised by Martini countless times for flirting with and teasing the waitstaff and bartenders (including herself, Whiskey, and Rum), though it's always in good fun. Mr. Wheezy's scratchy, yet smoky, voice and dry wit makes conversation with him enjoyable, and Mangosteen's humor does wonders to lift Earl's spirit. Teasing them with Chips helps as well, though, and his boyish charm combined with his wild nature is a delight. In between bickering, Pip and Dot tell fantastical stories about the interactive games they've played (Earl couldn't admit to wanting to try these games, though they won't hide their fascination with the pair's fictional adventures), Hopus only adding to the childlike wonder Earl could've sworn they'd lost with tricks and stories of his own. Pirouletta and Earl have spent hours talking about fine arts and their experiences with it. They've sworn more than once that if they die before seeing her dance on a proper stage, they'll haunt her until she gets up there, and she's promised the same from them.

But now all of them are gone. All except a beaten, worn-out figure sitting at the bar. It's dark, and the tailcoat was nowhere to be seen, but Earl could recognize the die head anywhere. It took some time before they could find a decent-looking barstool, but they cleared the way and pulled it over by King Dice. They knew that he should've been able to hear them by this point, but he didn't react. All he did was stare down at his now empty glass.

They've seen the look of a person who's just lost everything more times than they can count in this once bright building, but never did they think that they'd see it in the face of someone so... Powerful. And he _was _powerful. He had gained his reputation as a ruthless bastard for a _reason _; he _was _the Devil's right hand man. But now...

King Dice didn't look like a king anymore. His clothes were torn, he had gained a black eye, and there was even a crack in his head! What had those two little cups done to him?

Now, Earl couldn't say that the King didn't have it coming; he was a ruthless son of a gun that had a hand in a lot of misery all around Inkwell Isle. In terms of the wellbeing of everyone, it was probably for the better that he was stripped of his power... Did that mean that Earl had to like it? Fuck no.

It's not their fault that the die was so attractive and dangerous! He drew them to him! And maybe if he wasn't so charming and witty on top of that, then Earl wouldn't have feelings for him! It's _entirely _his fault that they're so worried about him instead of celebrating freedom with the other citizens!

..._ Goddammit._

... Well, they didn't exactly set out to fall for someone as big a bastard as King Dice, but no matter how they've tried to deny it, they can't change it, so they may as well use those feelings for something productive. Seeing as their presence alone wasn't eliciting any visible reaction, they got out of their seat and jumped behind the counter to find something better than whatever the fuck was in the King's cup before and an unbroken glass. They probably could've just walked around, but who's really going to stop them at this point? The Tipsy Trio were gone just like the rest of the workers, and King Dice sure wasn't in any mood to make them stop.

Triumphant, Earl set the glass down and poured themself a drink. "You look like you could use this," they remarked, holding the bottle out to their friend. He slowly drags his gaze up to them for a moment before dropping it back down. He pushes the glass towards them and they waste no time in pouring some of the drink into his cup and pushing it back to him.

When they jump back across the counter and he doesn't react much further, Earl decides to continue speaking. "... I see you had an... Eventful day. Everyone's celebratin' the Devil's defeat-"

"He called me a no-good lackey." The words came out of the King's mouth before Earl could finish. He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself for the conversation he's about to have. Earl stays quiet, watching him stare into the glass in front of him until he speaks again. "... Dev- The Devil called me a good-for-nothing lackey. 'Cause out of all the years I've worked for him, I've failed him just this once. I couldn't take on a couple o' cups... As if he did any better!" He barks out a bitter laugh that's devoid of any mirth. "... And now that I got my soul back, I ain't got nothing. Not unless I wanna crawl back to him."

Earl is still silent for just a moment longer, raising their own cup to their lips before placing it back down and fixing King Dice with a hard look. "I sure hope you're not seriously thinkin' of that, Dice. 'Cause if you are... Well, that just makes you one sorry asshole, doesn't it? What makes you think you can just let him walk right over you?"

For the first time since they arrived, his tired gaze meets theirs. "... You _were _listenin', right, Grey? I ain't anything without-"

Earl couldn't be certain what set them off- maybe they hated these words coming from such a proud man, or maybe it's the fact that the person they love is saying all this, but in a moment of anger, Earl slams a fist down on the table, jolting the man beside them as well astheir drinks. "Bullshit! That rotten snake never did _anything _around here besides count his money and take some poor bastard's souls while you did all the hard work! You single handedly ran this joint while he fucked off and did whatever he wanted! He was only powerful because of _you _and _your _staff! If you do nothing but please him and he has the _gall _to say that you're a failure for something that he can't even do himself then he has no business being in your life!" Finally noticing the look of shock on their friend's face, Earl takes a deep breath and lays their hand flat on the table rather than in the fist. Their expression is still one of anger, but at least they're not letting the entire casino (or what's left of it) in on this one moment of passion. "... Come with me."

_"What?"_

"You heard me." Earl takes another sip of their drink. "Come with me. Get out of here, away from him."

"Have y' lost it?" The die practically sputtered. "Just this mornin' I was the bastard that made everyone's lives hell, why would I go out there?"

"'Cause out there you're free. They'll hate you, but at least you're not gonna be cooped up in this ghost town and rot like the Devil. You won't be givin' up your soul for nothin'."

The clarity and determination in Earl's words seemed to finally sink in, a look of contemplation on Dice's face as he stared back into his glass. They were both silent for what felt like ages, but eventually he looked up at them, something akin to a dim spark in his eyes. A vast improvement over the emptiness they had before. "... Alright. You'd better be there, though, Earl. If I'm goin' out there, I ain't goin' alone."

The cup headed being laughed, picking up their much smaller glass and holding it out to him. "Wouldn't dream of it, boss. To a new life?"

Dice stared at the glass thoughtfully before chuckling and picking up his own glass, clinking his against theirs before finishing his drink off. "To a new life."

Earl's smile stayed on their face as they knocked the rest of theirs back. It'd be an interesting road to happiness for Dice, but damn if they're not willing to help this poor bastard through it all. And the Devil would have nothing to do with it if they had anything to say about it. For entirely unselfish reasons, of course.

* * *

me, writing King Dice/OC (sort of) fanfiction in 2019? yes, absolutely.

idk what exactly possessed me to write this but I was looking through some old shit that I started and never finished and I went like "I can do this better!" so I did lmao

I hope yall enjoyed!


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